Jace Winchester and the Fallen Angel Chronicles
by Brittani Is Batman
Summary: 20 years after the apocalypse(Season 5) AU. Jace just wants his father, Dean, to take him on a hunt for his 18th birthday, but when the hunt replicates his mother's death, Jace is pulled into something much bigger than what he thought would turn out to be a silly demon hunt. (implied Destiel)(Rated M for violence and just in case.)
1. Chapter 1: Jace Winchester

**Chapter One: Jace Winchester**

**Manhattan, NY, 2022**

_My feet hit the pavement. All I could hear was the sickening sound of thumping in my ears. I heard a muffled voice call my name, and someone grab me. Even at eleven, I was about as strong as a seven year old, and easily pulled back by a woman._

_ "MOM!" I screamed, as loud as I could._

_ There were stretchers, and blaring lights. All I remember is the blood-spattered windshield. I remember being pulled away by a police officer and told it was going to be okay._

_ And I remember the man from my mom's pictures walking up in a suit._

* * *

**Sioux Falls, SD, 2029**

"Jace!"

I smile and practically leap down the stairs. "Dad?" I call back. I hit the bottom of the staircase, meeting my father in the doorway. "You aren't supposed to be home until Saturday—"

Dad scoffs. "Well, good to see you, too."

"Sorry." I hurriedly hug him, before returning to my questioning. "Why are you home so soon? Where's Uncle Sam—"

"Calm down," he replies. "Sam's putting some stuff away. We got done sooner than we thought we would."

"What was it this time?" I question, curiously. Having spent most of my time living with my father and uncle cooped up in the house reading, I found my father's real stories to be the most fascinating thing in the world, when I managed to pry them out of him.

"Demon," Dad replies. "You don't need all the details."

I make a small noise of annoyance. "I'm almost eighteen." I cross my arms and Dad walks past me, into our little kitchen. I notice a bloody bandage tied around his arm, something I've grown accustomed to seeing. As bad as it sounds, I almost wish it was _me_ who came home with the bloody bandages; it was the adventure that they held in their scars, it was like something from a book. "You can't protect me forever. What happened? Pleaaaaase?" I whine as I follow him.

"It was just your run-of-the-mill demon case, Jayden." He opens the fridge and digs around in it. "Want to order a pizza for dinner?" he asks, casually, trying to change the subject.

"No." I lean against the counter, glaring at him. "When are you leaving again?"

"Whenever something turns up," he replies. "You know that's how it goes."

"Take me with you," I beg. This was our almost daily ritual. Whenever Dad came home from a hunt, I would bombard him with questions and pleas to come along. At first, he'd let me. He'd handcuff me to a car and let me watch from the back seat, but after an incident involving a can of silly string, a shape shifter and a pair of human lungs… he's been a bit reluctant to even let me out of the house.

"I'll think about it." The classic Dean Winchester block. I scowl.

"But _Dad_," I whine. Now, you may be assuming I'm a whiny person – really, I'm not. I'm actually a very accepting person, who is happy with any consequences and whatever punishments or limits I'm given, but whenever I really want something that is unfairly denied, I can turn into one whiney son of a gun.

"But _no_," Dad whines back. "We'll talk about it later. Right now, I just got home, I'm hungry, and I'm ordering a pizza." As though to further prove his point, his opened his cell phone and dialed the number for the pizza place. I sigh, sinking down into one of the kitchen chairs as he orders. I prop my head on my hands and my elbows on the table, staring at him expectantly as he hangs up the phone. "No, Jace." I don't say anything more, but don't move. When he stands up, my eyes follow him. He leaves the room, and I finally resume normal posture. One of these days, I am determined to get my way.

* * *

When my father has managed to tick me off, or I just want to escape the confinement of the house, I have a knack for wandering off into the fields behind our home. We own approximately three point twenty-two acres of land, all of which is surrounded by iron and salt infused hand-crafted fencing. If that weren't enough, the same material that was used to make the fence can be found at the surface of certain spots, turning the entire backyard into a large pentagram. The goal? Keep out any and all demons, ghosts or vulnerable baddies unless something possessed us to want them in. On numerous occasions it had been mentioned that we needed angel protection as well, but Dad would always mutter something about working on it later, then walk off. On numerous occasions, I had heard him and Sam yelling at each other about it, and would later find him asleep at the desk in the library, a picture of a blue-eyed man sitting on the pages of an opened book, and empty beer bottles to accompany. I wasn't stupid, but admittedly when I was younger I was. When I was thirteen I had the daftness to question the picture, and I'd rather not think of that time.

I like to wander around the field until I find the center, plop myself down there, and read, or draw, or simply think. The only person who ever finds me out here is Sam, and he knows to only come find me if he really thinks I needs someone, or if I'm really needed. Honestly, I have no idea what brings him out now, as his heavy footsteps come up behind me, and he slowly lowers himself to sit beside me.

"Hey," he says.

"Hey," I reply.

Here's the thing with me and Sam – he's practically my father. Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and all, but Sam has always been the one who came to me, asked me questions, just all around did fatherly things, while Dad was sort of awkward and overprotective and didn't want my side to any argument.

"Don't be mad at your dad, he's trying to protect you."

"And you don't agree with him?"

"… Look, Jayden, I honestly don't think you're ready to be a hunter, but I also don't think Dean's giving you the chance to become one," he says, in that careful way he possesses. "You're more of a… a _book smart_ type of guy, y'know? Not exactly… _hunting material_."

The way he said the words made me feel sick. "'Hunting material'?" I scoffed. "You're kind of boom smart, aren't you? What makes you different from me?"

"I've been to Hell and back," Sam replies. "Quite literally. I've seen a lot more than you think, kiddo."

"I'd get to see a lot more if you guys would let me—"

"I know. Look, I'll talk to him. Your birthday is next week; maybe he'll come around." Sam looks away from me, staring out at the tree line. "Ohio really scared him, Jayden. He's worried about losing you; and who can blame him? The Winchesters aren't exactly known for having a big happy family that never gets hurt, and after Cas betrayed him there…"

"How come neither of you will tell me who Cas is?"

Sam sighed. "He's a friend, of me and your father's. It's a painful memory that your dad doesn't like brought up, and I won't be the one who discusses that with you."

"Were they, like, boyfriends, or something?" I ask, looking at him out of the corner of my eye.

Sam chuckles. "Not exactly," he replies. "Come on, let's go back up to the house. It's going to be dark soon."

I know not to argue, and Sam's right about it getting dark. The sun is already slowly fading into the oranges and pinks of sunset. He stands up, and after a moment I stand to join him as well. I stay a few steps behind him, even though I can easily match his pace. I just prefer to stay where I'm not being watched. I like to listen to the wind in the trees and the undisturbed crackling of branches. Something was… _off_ today, though. Unsettlingly off.

I turn around slowly, stopping in my tracks. I could swear I see something disappearing between one of the trees, but in the blink of an eye, there's nothing.

"Coming?" Sam asks; he's gotten several yards ahead of me.

I swallow hard at turn back to him with a nod. I begin walking again, with a final glance behind me. Still, there's nothing, but I feel eyes watching from behind me. Maybe it's some sort of Winchester inherited gene, like a spidey-sense, but I can just feel it. Something's coming.


	2. Chapter 2: Meet Me In St Louis

Chapter Two: Meet Me In St. Louis

**St. Louis, MO, 2029**

There are very obvious differences and similarities between my father and I. For instance, our eyes are the same color, the same exact shade. We both have light hair, but mine is much much closer to white-blonde, while Dad's is closer to really light brown. My personality contrasts my dad's in many ways, but I still have some of his traits – utter sarcasm, protectiveness of what I care about, understanding and caring for other people. I do, however, have many that are nothing at all like him. If I look at myself in the mirror, I can't see him in me. Before she died, my mother always told me I made her think of my father, and I've always tried to find it, but I can't see it. My face is shaped thinner, and my features sharper; my glasses make me look even less like him. I don't know if that's bad, exactly, but I hate that I can't see what she meant when she said she could see him in me.

I inspect myself in the streaked motel room mirror, crossing my arms as I hear the door opening.

"Having fun yet?" Dad asks me, almost angrily.

It took a lot of convincing, but we had gotten around to him. I was eighteen and he could either take me out hunting with them or I would let myself out. Easy to say he wasn't happy about it, but he preferred to have me at least in his sight as opposed to running off by myself.

"Yup," I reply, coldly. "You know, just bouncing off the walls. It's like a party."

"Whoa, sarcasm. _That_'s original," Dad says, loosening his tie from around his neck.

"Play nice," Sam says. "It's not that big of a deal… I don't even think we're finding anything—"

"Three women have been killed in freak car accidents that don't involve other cars in the past week," I say, turning around. I walk turn on my tablet and pull up the research I had been doing. "The same thing happened, only four women died, seven years ago… in New York…"

I can see it click in their brains why exactly I said this sounded like a good case. "Jace," Dad starts, but I cut him off.

"Dad, you guys went on a quest to find what killed your mother _years_ ago… why can't I find what killed mine?"

Okay, it wasn't completely about that. Dad had convinced me several years ago that whatever happened had been a freak accident, but I can't help thinking there's more to it than that, and when I found out there had been other identical accidents, well, I was bent on figuring this out.

"We're going home," Dad says, pulling off his tie and grabbing my Kindle.

"Dad!" I argue.

"We're not getting involved in this."

"Dean… maybe he's old enough to—"

"Sammy, this isn't your call. We're leaving. I knew this was a mistake."

"So, you found nothing today?" I demand, as Dad walks over to start throwing my stuff back into a duffel bag, as he knows I will oppose him until he convinces me to willingly leave.

"I found the same things I found when your mother died, and you're not getting involved in this. This same thing has happened before, and it'll probably happen again; it's just coincidences."

I could tell by the tone of his voice this wasn't a coincidence. "Dad, I'm eighteen. You and Sam can go home, but I'm staying here. Somebody else is going to die, and I want answers."

Dad let out a sigh. "You're _so stubborn_," he says, all anger gone from his voice. "You know this isn't going to bring her back, don't you?"

"I know… I know she won't just come back to life," I reply. "But… But if there's a way—"

"Jayden Cecil John Winchester, you need to go home." I could see by the look in his eyes that he was serious. He wants me to go home, and I know what he's planning. He's going to stay.

"I won't go home unless you go home, too," I reply, as stubbornly as I can. Dad shakes his head, going into the bathroom and slamming the door. I look at Sam, "What's in this that he's so determined to handle without me?"

"He doesn't want you hurt." But I can tell by Sam's avoidance of eye contact that he's lying, which only bothers me more.

"What's involved in this, Sam? Why doesn't he want me to be here?"

"This is more dangerous than you think, Jace," Sam half-whispers. "It really would be best for you to go home." He sits down at the table, and I join him.

I shake my head. "I'm not going home. You guys have been hunting since you were kids, why can't I?"

"Because we were raised that way, and you weren't."

Dad exits the bathroom and joins us at the table. "Come on," he says. "We've got work to do. What information did you pull up on the victims?"

I grin. Was that his way of saying I'm allowed to stay? I didn't care. I immediately started in on all the facts.

"So, all we have is that the aim is single mothers? How are we supposed to narrow down every single mother in St. Louis?" asks Sam. "There's got to be more to it."

"There is. It involves _so _much more. I can tell, I just can't… figure out what it is." I bite my lip and stare down at all the articles I had gathered on similar events. "I feel like this goes deeper than we can get from police reports."

"Meaning?" asks Dad.

"Meaning I think we need to talk to the victims' families…"

* * *

"Aren't you kind of young to work for the FBI?"

I make a small half-chuckle, before replying, "Ever see _21 Jump Street_?"

"Yeah."

"It's like that."

"The guys on _21 Jump Street_ didn't look like they were in high school…"

"Okay, I look way younger than I am, can we please move past that?"

"You're kind of cute…"

I sigh in exasperation. Whilst Dad and Sam were questioning the current victim, Samantha Reynolds', parents, I had somehow gotten stuck with her son, Lucas. I half think I'm being set up for failure; maybe they figure if I can't get the necessary information they can send me back to Sioux Falls and never worry about me again. "Look, I need to talk to you about your mom!"

"She just _died_, maybe I don't want to talk to her," Lucas whines. "It's totally depressing."

"Don't you want us to find who – or _what_ – killed her?"

"I know what killed her. She told me... Nobody will listen to me, though."

I raise an eyebrow. Finally, we're getting somewhere. "I'll listen. What did she tell you?"

"Her guardian angel. She was killed by her guardian angel." The look on my face obviously upset him, because his face turned to anger. "Ugh, I told you I didn't want to talk about it! You don't believe me."

"Oh, oh no… I completely believe you. Can you tell me everything that happened before she died?" I ask. He gives me a look like I'm a complete idiot, before he responds.

"I told you; I don't want to talk about it."

I kind of understood it. Sure, I was much younger when I lost my mom, but I know how he must feel. Confused, scared, upset. Even worse, he had a younger sister to think about. I had cut myself off from the world and pretended I was fine up until the funeral, and I had a feeling that was what Lucas was doing.

"I know how you feel," I tell him, leaning against the doorframe. "My mom died when I was eleven."

"I'm not eleven; I'm sixteen. You have no idea how I feel—"

"I know you're upset. You blame yourself a little bit; especially because you were told something. You miss her like crazy, and you regret not getting to say goodbye. You keep telling everyone you're fine when you're not. You wish it was you who they were burying, not her. You want answers. You want to be able to feel a different emotion."

"Shut up." He looks me right in the eyes. "Stop. You don't need to tell me how I feel. Look, a couple months ago, she started hooking up with some guy. When I started getting mad about the bruises she'd come home with, she fought with me. She called him… her guardian angel. Said she'd seen his wings. I wanted to call the police, but she claimed that's not where she got hurt, and I was stupid enough to believe her. She wouldn't tell me his name or anything. I only saw his face once. A few days before she died, she told me she thought she was pregnant with his kid. I got ticked off and left to stay with a friend. Next thing I know, they're calling me to tell me she's dead. That's what happened before she died."

As soon as he says that, a memory starts going through my head. The link. I think I found the link.

"Did your mother know an Alexis Harris or Penelope van Pelt?"

* * *

As I try to explain everything, I'm practically crying. I remember now; everything that happened. "It's telling the women that it's an angel, gets them to love it. They're all linked. All the kids were born within a five-year radius, the youngest is currently thirteen. All the parents knew each other, from the same single-mom support groups. I remember now, mom used to go to one on Saturday nights while the old lady who lived across the street from us babysat me. I completely forgot; I didn't think it was a link because I didn't know the other women who died. I remember Mom saying something on the phone about a guardian angel. I think it makes sense, Dad."

"Calm down," dad shushed me. He looked slightly pale. "You're talking too fast. When did you hear your mom say something about a guardian angel."

"Right before she died. Like… maybe a day…?"

He looks over at Sam. "She was on the phone with me. I didn't get there soon enough to intervene, or get any more information from her." He turns back to me. "I think you're right, about the link. You did a good job this time, kid; but I think you should go home now."

"Dad—"

"Jace, please. Go back to the hotel with Sam. I'm going to go try to figure out who the next target in this support group could be," he says.

I sigh. "Yes, sir."

He nods, and opens the passenger door to the Impala. I climb inside and he shuts it. "I'll see you later."


	3. Chapter 3: Castiel

Chapter Three: Castiel

**Manhattan, NY, 2022**

_My mom was a good person, so I didn't understand why bad things happened to her. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that bad things happen to good people._

_ I remember the first time I met my Dad. It just _had_ to be after she was dead – after it was too late for explanations._

_ And, don't get me wrong, I love living with my dad and knowing him and everything, just the way he was introduced into my life made me feel absolutely unwanted._

_ At first I was told he was a "family friend" who "worked with the FBI" and was "investigating" my mother's murder. Later, I was told he was my mom's ex-boyfriend. Then, finally, when it was decided that nobody in my family wanted to raise the screwed-up, scarred for life, innocent son of the murder victim, it was decided that I should know he was my father. At first, I thought it was a lie. They just wanted to get rid of me, right? My mom would've told me… But I remembered the photos my mom had. I wasn't supposed to know about them, but I did. I had seen them when she didn't think I was looking. They were pictures of this man; Now, I don't even know how she would've gotten him to stand for any pictures. Sure, there are a few of me and him, but I can't see him letting a woman he knew for one week and slept with one time take pictures of him for her scrapbook. I'm getting off track now…_

_ Basically, what happened was the funeral. I had known he was my dad for all of an hour, but I was right-out refusing to go with him. My aunt and grandparents were completely frustrated with me for my refusal. At the funeral… well, what do you expect an eleven year old to do at the funeral for the only parent he had ever known? I had a casket-side breakdown. I was literally collapsed next to a casket crying, screaming and fighting off anyone who tried to touch me or talk sense into me. I kept hearing slurs about how immature I was, and how I was making a scene. And then I felt someone lift me off the ground, and carry me out of the room, kicking and screaming all the way. When he set me down on the stairs outside the building, I let off a string of the dirtiest cuss words you can learn in the fifth grade of a Christian private school. He just sat there listening, and when I stopped, and I was just crying and trying to catch my breath, he looked at me, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry you're going through this – but you're going to get over it, and screaming to a dead body isn't going to bring her back or make you feel any better."_

_ I stared at him, my teary green eyes wide. He just stared back at me, completely silent. I collapsed forward, sobbing into his shoulder, and after a moment he awkwardly hugged me. And that was when I changed my mind about letting my family ship me off with him._

* * *

**St. Louis, MO, 2029**

"Jace, where's Sam?" Dad's voice comes through the phone.

"Electricity just went out in the hotel—"

"—electricity is out in half the city—"

"—so he went to try to find somewhere with Wi-Fi. What's happening?"

"There's another victim. Do you remember that exorcism I taught you?"

"Mhm."

"Are you wearing the anti-possession amulet."

"Yes, Dad."

"Okay, there's salt in the duffel bag. I want you to salt all the doors and windows. And salt around all the plumbing as well. And anything that anything would be able to get in through."

"Dad… what's happening?"

"And there's chalk, too. Rip up the carpet and draw a devil's trap in the door. Remember how to load my gun? Load it and don't let it out of your sight. Whatever this thing is, it's not just after the women. Please, just do what I say. I'm going to be there soon."

"Dad—"

He hangs up on me. I set the phone down and take out my flashlight, looking around for Dad's duffel. I take out the salt and walk over to the door. Once I've finished salting the room, I return to sitting at the table, shining my flashlight around the room as I grip Dad's gun. Emptiness. Pitch. Black. Emptiness.

"Hello."

Most guys won't admit when they scream like a girl, but I'm not most guys. I screamed like flipping five year old girl. I mean, when you've just demon and ghost proofed the entire motel room and a man appears out of thin air, I think screaming is permitted. I raise the gun and aim it at the man, my eyes wide.

"That gun won't do you any good," the man says.

"It will if I shoot you in the head," I retort.

The man blinks, as though I didn't just threaten him. "Where is Dean?"

"What?" I ask, completely baffled. I focus, and then it hits me. The sort of scruffy look, the brown hair and sky blue eyes. "W-wait, Castiel…?"

He looks at me blankly. "_Where are Sam and Dean?_"

"They're out… You're an _Angel_?"

He huffs and looks around the room. "You're not safe here, and neither are Sam or Dean."

"Not safe from _what_?"

"Come with me," he demands, grabbing me by the elbow. "We need to go, now."

I jerk my arm away from him, gripping both my hands around the gun. "Sorry, I was kind of told not to run off with strangers."

"I'm not a _stranger_," he replies. "Can you call your father? You all need to leave. Now."

I hesitate for a moment, unsure about the look in his eyes, but then I release one of my hands from the gun and grab my cell phone. I dial dad's number and wait for him to pick up.

"Jayden?!" His voice sounds worried, which I take note of.

"Dad, there's a… guy here… and… he knows you…?"

Suddenly, the phone is snatched from my hand. "Dean. It's Castiel."

I hear a rather loud and violent string of cuss words coming from Dad's end, to which Castiel seems close to oblivious. After a moment, Castiel says, "Dean, it's more serious than we ever thought. We need to move… Get Sam and—…Dean, listen to me—… hurry. I will wait for you." Castiel hangs up my phone and hands it back to me.

"You're Castiel?" I ask, taking the phone carefully from his hand.

"Yes," he replies. "And you're Jayden. You've grown up quite a bit since last time I saw you…"

"Since you… saw me?"

"You wouldn't remember. You were nearly dead at the time." Castiel strolls across the room, peeking through the blinds on one of the window. "There's Dean now!"

The door opens, breaking the salt line, though Dad doesn't seem worried about that as he hurries inside, clutching a gun. "Jayden? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Dad…" I'm clutching the gun so hard my knuckles are white, my eyes searching the worry in my father's.

Dad turns to Castiel, and he takes a step towards him. For a moment, I think he might drop his gun and hug the guy, and it appeared that Castiel thinks that, too. "Dean…" he starts, but in the blink of an eye, Dad's slammed his gun straight across Castiel's face.

"That was for Ohio you—" he lets out a string of rather foul swears, during which Castiel gave him a horrified look as blood dripped from his nose.

"Dad? What's happening?" I ask. "Why's everyone freaking out?"

Dad sends a final glare in Castiel's direction, before turning to me. "You know that Lucas kid?"

"Yeah…?"

"He's dead."

My eyes widen. Sure, I didn't particularly like the guy, and I'm fairly certain he may've been developing a crush on me, but I didn't wish him dead. He was just a kid, barely younger than I am; he had just lost his mom, and I felt for him. "Dead? How…?"

"It wasn't exactly a pretty crime scene," Dad replies. There's an odd coldness in his eyes. I remember something Sam told me once, when I said I didn't understand why people were so afraid of Dad, and why people thought he was so tough. Sam had told me Dad was almost a different person when he got in the middle of a hunt, and I wasn't sure if I was beginning to see that, or something else. "We need to go—"

"Why?!" It suddenly clicks in my head what he's implying. "Dad… you don't think—?"

"Jayden, I may've stretched the truth about how much I already know about this. Hurry up and pack up your stuff," he commands, starting to grab any belongings so Sam's and throwing them into a bag. "Pack it all up and get to the Impala."

"Dad—"

"Do as I say, Jayden," he says. He looks at me, almost pleadingly. "Please."

I hesitate for a moment, before I obey his order.


	4. Chapter 4: It's Going To Be Okay

**Chapter Four: It's Going To Be Okay**

It's been nearly a week since St. Louis, and boy has it been a crazy week. Mostly we drove; but Dad wouldn't tell me where we were driving and Sam was absolutely no help either. Dad had pulled Castiel aside and had a serious-looking conversation with him, but I have no idea what it was about, I just kept getting this weird feeling I was being watched every second of every day by _somebody_. Dad and Sam seemed to take turns to watch me, and I'm fairly certain they'd follow me into the bathroom if I let them.

"Where are we going?" I ask, for what feels like the millionth time. Sam turns around in his seat to look back at me.

"We're looking for a hunt," he replies. "What we always do."

"You guys just drive around? Is that what happens when you're gone for weeks?"

"Not _now_, Jayden," Dad snaps. "You wanted to start hunting; well, welcome to the family business." The sarcasm in his voice was heavy, and I chose to sink back into my seat instead of reply. Sam turned back around to nervously continue staring out the window. "I'm sorry," Dad's voice broke the silence. "We're going to head home soon; I'm having someone check the place out."

"Castiel?" I question.

"No," he replies. "No, Cas is on a different job."

I let my eyes trail out the window, following the trees along the highway. I follow them as they eventually fall behind us, grasping for anything to hold my attention on the dull drive. Eventually, my eyelids get heavy, and my face falls against the glass.

* * *

_"Destian, we can't risk it."_

_ Castiel turns away from the window of the small diner. His eyes meet a blinding light, but he doesn't seem to flinch at the whiteness._

_ "Castiel," a deep voice booms from the light. "I cannot assist in stopping Lucifer unless you release the Winchester boy. I must find him; he _will_ say yes."_

_ "And when he doesn't?" Castiel questions, his eyes downshifting._

_ "What is he to you? Do you not care that they will kill not only him, but every other man, woman and child that that Liesel dragged into this?"_

_ "I do, Destian… but the boy is special. It's not how they all think it is… Liesel is _dead_. The boy poses no harm in his current care—"_

_ "He's reached his adulthood, Castiel. The boy will begin showing the signs of the Marked. They will find him, and kill him. I must persuade him to be my vessel if he is to survive this war."_

_ Castiel seems to falter at this. He thinks for a moment, before his eyes return to the white form. "Destian, his father would never forgive me if I let you get near him. Liesel used her dying power to protect him; are we to break our brethren's death wish?"_

_ "Her death wish? She was Fallen, Castiel. She has no meaning left to us, except that of her mistake on Earth. You and I are the only two who know of the child's true identity, and I don't believe it shall be long before it is found out. I am asking you to get him alone, without his father. I need to speak to him."_

_ "Destian, he _will_ say no," Castiel replies, carefully._

_ "Then you have nothing to worry about."_

* * *

I woke up with a gasp, to my father shaking me awake.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks.

"Yeah… I had this… weird dream…" I mutter, rubbing my eyes. I look around; there's a certain familiarity about the street. "Where are we…?" I ask, hoping the answer isn't what I think it is.

"Erm… right outside New York. Your aunt's—"

"WHY?!"

Sam is awkwardly shuffling back and forth behind Dad. He looks over at us, but doesn't say anything. After a moment, Dad answers, "Well, we need some stuff of your mom's, and we thought maybe you'd stay with her while we cleaned some stuff up and—"

"No. No. N-O. No."

"Okay, well, we need to talk to her about your mom, and we need you to come in or she's never going to let us," Dad replies.

"Fine." I grudgily stand up and walk up the rickety porch steps of the country home. Dad joins by my side and knocks on the door, which results in a hollow sound. I chew on the inside of my cheek as we stand there, reliving the days after Mom's death in my memory. I feel Sam join us, and then the door opens, revealing a rather surprised young woman.

"J-Jayden?"

I look up from my feet, and surprise fills my eyes. "Kimi?" A feeling of relief settles over me – it wasn't my aunt, but my older cousin. The second she realizes I recognized her, she leaps forward to hug me. I'm knocked back slightly by the impact, but soon recover as she releases the embrace.

"Oh! Mom's gonna be _so_ mad." She looks at Dad and Sam, and makes a face. "You must be his… dads?"

I choke. "Dad and Uncle," I correct her.

"Oh," she says. "My bad. I only remember the short one…" She pauses for a moment. "Mom is gonna be _mad_."

"Is she home?" Dad asks, his voice cold.

"Yeah… just a minute." Kimi disappears back into the house, leaving us on the porch.

* * *

Here's the thing about parents: No matter _how old_ you get, they still decide it's perfectly acceptable to talk behind closed doors and leave their kids by themselves and completely incapable of hearing the conversation that's clearly about them. Me and Kimi tried every trick in the book – a glass to the door, listening through key holds, sneaking around to the back window – but nothing let us hear their conversation.

"What did she do – soundproof the room?" I ask, leaning against the mahogany banister that trails up the staircase.

Kimi, still holding a glass between her ear and the door, shakes her head. "It's so weird. There's nothing, not even a muffled voice."

"So?" I reply, giving her a would-you-care-to-elaborate look.

"So, it's strange…" she replies. "Are they even _in_ – AH!" The door was pulled open, and Kimi slipped from where she knelt. She smiled up from the floor, at Sam. "Hi…" she said, as innocently as she could muster.

I smile, sheepishly, receiving a look of annoyance from Dad. My aunt is standing next to him, her arms crossed as she shoots Kimi a death glare. Kimi hurriedly scrambled to her feet and joined my side by the banister.

"Go get in the car, Jayden," Dad says, coldly. He pushes past me and starts up the stairs, my aunt following him.

"Uncle Sam?" I ask, as he starts in our direction.

"Don't argue," Sam replies, almost pleadingly, "we'll be out in a minute."

I watch him start up the stairs, before practically storming out the door. I slam the screen behind me, causing it to thump on its hinges. Kimi follows close behind, chasing me to the Impala. "Jayden, wait! You can't just leave," she says. "You just got here."

"Kimi… it's a lot bigger than you think…" I start to pull the door to the car open, but she slams it shut with surprising strength.

"Jayden. What's going on?" Her eyes search mine, and all I can do is stare back, trying to seem as blank as I can. I open my mouth to reply, but am cut off by a gun shot ringing out from the house. "What the—"

I pull open the door, and yank Kimi inside the Impala with me. "Shh…" I warn.

"What was that? That was a _gun_?!"

"Shuddup," I snap.

"WHY WOULD I SHUT UP? THAT WAS A GUN! IN MY _HOUSE_!"

"KIMI!" I put my hand over her mouth and pull her down, hidden between the front and back seats. More gunshots ring out. I close my eyes, listening carefully to any sound outside of the vehicle. After a moment, I hear shuffling through the dead grass, and heavy breathing.

"Jace?"

I poke my head up, seeing Sam standing a few feet away from the car. Kimi struggles against my grip; as tight as I hold onto her, she manages to twist my wrist off and get out of the car. "PSYCHO!" she screams at me. She turns to Sam, a look of horror in her eyes. "Why were there gun shots? Where's my mom?"

Sam smiles a smile that sends a chill down my spine. "She's in the house," he replies. "There was a rat. She grabbed Dean's gun and… lost it a little bit." I pull myself out of the car, grabbing Kimi's arm.

"Kimi…" I say. "Let's go find her." I give Sam a small look, a curious look that shows I can see through his lie. Kimi jerks against my grip, spinning around to give me a death glare.

"Lay off, Jayden!" She launches into a rant about me being a psychopath and needing to get off her property immediately, but I'm distracted by what's over her shoulder – Sam's arm raising above his head with a blood-covered knife.

"KIMI!" I knock her aside, feeling the blade tear through the flesh of my arm as we roll onto the ground. The pain sears through my body – not like any blade I'd ever felt before. I take weak, shallow breaths as we stand up. I honestly think I may be going into shock, but I had a certain familial instinct to protect Kimi. "Move!"

Sam is walking slowly to us as I pull her up and grab her hand, running to the house. The only thing in my mind is finding my father; surely he'd know how to stop this.

We get into the main hall and she stops, dead in her tracks. "Jayden," she says. "He was trying to kill us—?"

"Move!" I yell again. "Where would your mom be taking my dad?"

"I-I… upstairs…? What's happening?"

The door breaks open, and I grab Kimi's wrist, dragging her up the stairs with me. Sam's long strides easily match my own, though, and I feel him grab my ankle, pulling me down. Kimi stalls at the top of the staircase, as Sam attempts to bring the knife down. I grab his wrist and forearm, trying to stop him. His other hand goes around my throat, but I jerk my knee up, hitting him in the crotch. He flinches slightly, enough for me to push him away and half-crawl half-run up the stairs, but he's right behind me. I feel him grab my elbow and twist, the bone snapping in the already-cut arm. I let out a gasp of pain as he raises the knife again, but this time Kimi's in action. She grabs his arm and throws herself back, twisting him around.

"You silly, little, girl," Sam says, in a voice I hardly recognize.

"RUN!" Kimi yells to me, but I'm frozen. She puts up a feeble fight – a few dodges and a last-resort punch to Sam's chin, but in the end, I'm watching as she is driven onto the end of Sam's knife.

By this point, the shock has set in and I'm barely functioning. I manage to fumble with the doorknob to what I assume is the attic enough to get it to swing open, and stumble up the stairs. Everything hits me a little harder as I take in the sight of the attic's chaos. Dad is lying on the floor, a bleeding bullet hole on his abdomen; my aunt's body is a few feet away. I kneel beside my dad, putting pressure against his neck to check his pulse. I can feel it, though it is beyond feeble. My brain searches for something – anything – that could possibly help me as Sam's heavy footsteps come up the staircase.

Suddenly, I remember one of the first things Dad taught me. "_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…omnis satanica potestas…omnis incursion…infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte…et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare._"

Sam grunts as he reaches the top of the staircase. He glares at me, and I get the feeling that so far my exorcism was correct, or correct enough, to prove useful.

"_Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis,_" I continue, as Sam collapses and the black smoke starts to leave his body. "_Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt!_"

Sam's body crumples as the smoke disappears, and I lower myself to the ground. "Sam…?" I mutter, trying to steady my breathing and support my broken bone. Sam seems to awaken slightly, but he looks blankly at me.

"J-Jayden…? What… what happened…? DEAN!" Sam stumbles to his feet, nearly falling over. He kneels between me and my father, looking at Dad's wounds. "We need to get him out of here." He notices that I'm on the verge of having a complete mental episode, and his voice takes on a softer nature. "Jayden, Jayden, look at me," I do so, "I need you to keep it together until we get to the car, okay? I just need you to get down to the car and then it's going to be okay. It's all going to be okay, I promise."

Foolishly, I believe him. I manage to pull myself up off the ground and follow as Sam hoists my dad up and carries him down. The rest is a blur – we got to the impala. I remember crying and lots of cussing, though I'm not sure what was from me and what was from Sam. Dad remained unconscious, and, at some point, we got to a hospital and Sam made something up. Something about my aunt. Attempted murder-suicide. I stared at him, mortified at the fact that it would leave Sam's lips. I remember having a cast put onto my arm, and being too out of it to give an explanation for what happened, and Sam telling them I fell trying to get away from the gunshots. I am admitted into a room, but no matter what I do or say nobody will tell me what's happening with Dad, not even Sam.

Sam just keeps looking at me and saying, "It's going to be okay. It always is."

Maybe it's because of his lie about what happened, or how easy he can lie, or just my mental breakdown, but for once in my life, I don't believe my uncle's words.

* * *

**[Author Note: Hey guys! I'm so sorry the updates are few and far between! I've got a lot going on with school, theatre, et cetera. I'm going through and on lots of fun and scary adventures. I'm going to try to update more.**

**I bumped up the rating because I didn't want to risk getting too violent for T, especially in future chapters.**

**Please R&R, Favorite, and Follow! 3 I will give you virtual pie. Also, please give me feedback!**

**I'm getting really excited with writing this. Who is Destian? Who is Liesel? What is Castiel getting himself (and the Winchesters) into?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the exorcism. I _actually _found it on the internet. It's a portion of the exorcism used in S1E4 "Phantom Traveler", according to the Super-Wiki.****]**


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